


echo

by LeilaKalomi



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley's Century-Long Nap (Good Omens), M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oblivious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Sad Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23821399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeilaKalomi/pseuds/LeilaKalomi
Summary: When Crowley takes Aziraphale's hand in a moment of boldness, Aziraphale is too surprised to know what to do. Crowley's reaction holds the key to something Aziraphale hadn't understood until now. Can he make it up to Crowley?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 140
Collections: Name That Author Round One





	echo

They didn’t go directly to the bookshop after. Instead, they dined at the Ritz and walked back slowly. Everything felt suffused with a warm glow, and Crowley didn’t think he was imagining the way Aziraphale walked so close they brushed against each other, even when he’d instinctively tried to step away the first time it happened.

As they turned onto Aziraphale’s block, he decided to take his chances. When their knuckles brushed again, Crowley stretched out his fingers, and found Aziraphale’s.

“Oh,” Aziraphale said. He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t look at Crowley either, as their hands curled together.

At the door, Crowley cocked his head, waited to be invited inside. But Aziraphale gently extricated his hand and gave a little cough, the kind he’d used to imply he had things to do. 

“Oh, yeah,” Crowley said. “Oh, uh, right. Good night, then.” He didn’t wait to be told. He dashed out to his Bentley and sped away, leaving Aziraphale standing outside the shop, wringing his hands. He felt guilty. At the flat, he stood over his phone, wondering if he ought to call. But if Aziraphale was busy, he was busy. Whatever. Didn’t matter. Crowley didn’t know why he’d thought it should.

Bed, then. And not in the way he’d hoped. Bed was for sleeping. He was an idiot.

But six weeks later, Aziraphale showed up at Crowley’s door, holding a book, just a bit of light reading. His lips were pinched, and he looked both frantic and resigned. No one came to the door, just as no one had answered the buzzer, or any of the phone calls he’d made, every week at first, then twice a week, and then every day for the last one. He had started to realize what must have happened. And it had made so much sense, had made so many other things make more sense than they ought to.

( _I have plenty of other people to fraternize with. I don’t need you._ And he hadn’t seen him then for eighty years. He’d found out later he hadn’t had anyone else. He’d been sleeping to pass the time faster. Aziraphale hadn’t found out why until now.)

_Bugger_ , Aziraphale whispered. He sighed, miracled open the door and locked it again behind him, stepping into the flat for the second time ever. The space was huge and empty, and seemed as if it ought to echo.

He moved slowly down the hall, careful to keep his steps quiet. Crowley was sleeping, curled slightly on one side, his back to the door. Aziraphale miracled himself a chair and pulled it around to the side he was facing, the side by the window. He opened the book. However long it took, he would wait. This time, when Crowley woke up, he would be here. He would be ready for him. Until then, he would watch over him, keep him safe. There was no rush. They had all the time in the world.


End file.
